Surface of the Sun
by Lelila Solo
Summary: The Seattle Grace doctors are sent to see a new hospital in Mazatlan, Mexico through it's first days. But when Mexican drug cartels erupt in a violent gang war that claims the new hospital, the doctors must face the nightmares of their pasts. In the beginning time is split between Calzona and MerDer but they will soon come together and the focus will shift heavily to Calzona.
1. Prologue

_When the past comes back to haunt you, are the stakes ever too high to save the ones you love?_

Arizona Robbins came to Seattle to escape a life she left behind.

Derek Shepherd can still see the faces of the men who murdered his father.

Callie Torres dreams about the night her brother disappeared.

April Kepner never told anyone that she'd been raped.

Jackson Avery watched his best friend fall away into another world.

Owen Hunt remembers the names of every man he lost.

Seattle Grace, along with several other prestigious hospitals across the country, is convening in a poor Mexican district outside of Mazatlan. A new hospital, charitably run to provide much needed medical care to those in need, is opening and Seattle Grace doctors are sent to see it through it's first days. But when Mexican drug cartels erupt in a violent gang war that claims the new hospital, the doctors are brought face to face with the nightmares of their pasts.

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

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><p><em>7 years before...<em>

Little perfect snowflakes were falling like crystals from the night sky, coating the streets like powdered sugar. The perfect picture for a postcard, it would be a white Christmas in New York as usual. Through the windows of her empty office, she'd watched people walking through the city all day. Carrying out that last minute shopping before Christmas Eve parties the next day, passersby had hardly noticed her lingering glances. Green and gold, red and silver decorated the houses, twinkling lights lit up the snow covered roofs, and candles in windows reminded some of the joy of the season. Women and men with their families had been laughing and smiling. Hats, scarves, and bundled coasts had brought her many a rainbow that day. Brilliant smiles had lightened her eyes, much like the street lamps that had begun letting off their warm glow as the sun set.

Compared to the dark, menacing trees of Central Park at night, she would almost always choose the well-lit city streets. But tonight, the trees suited her mood. The falling snow clung to the bare branches like morning dew highlighting the deadly snares of a spider's web. The walkways through the park that she had been patrolling were starting to slick over, her leather heeled boots slipping every other step. Her dark grey scarf was wrapped tightly around her neck and pulled up over her ears, rosy cold-bitten cheeks peeking out above it. Matching gloves covered small hands stuffed not so delicately into her coat pockets. She was starting to wish she'd worn fur-lined boots and another long-sleeved shirt. She'd been walking in circles for hours, wearing tracks into Central Park that people would be able to follow for years after she was gone. The trees had heard her plans, but she'd gotten little response from them. A shift in the wind had dumped snow on her head at a particularly stupid idea and she'd rolled her eyes. Mother Nature had always had a way of making a point. She knew what she had to do. She knew exactly what she was going home to, but she couldn't. Not yet. Tears crept back into her eyes and blinking furiously, she willed them away. If they fell, they would freeze on her cheeks.

Sharply contrasting the mood of the night, the jingle bell ringtone of her cell phone bit angrily at her ears and she quickly fished it out of her jeans' pocket, letting the cold air in against her built up layers of warmth. Seeing the number, a snarl formed in her throat. "What?"

"We're watching, Ms. Robbins," the cold voice smiled. "And waiting."

She snapped the phone shut and thrust it deep into her coat pocket. Closing her eyes briefly, her foot hit ice and she slid from the path into a bank of snow. Her knees hit the ground hard and she cried out. Shaking angry tears from her cloudy eyes and brushing dirt from her knees, she got to her feet and made her way out of the park. The beauty of the city was lost on her as she kept her head ducked, blonde curls hiding tear-stained cheeks. She'd been doing her job. She'd tried to save her patient's life and now she was losing her family because of it. The barely audible crunch of snow underneath her boots was deafening to her ears, echoing through her empty heart. Her hands shook as she tried to fit the key into her front door. Before she opened it, she pressed her forehead against the cool wood. She just needed another moment. A breath and she opened the door. Christmas music floated towards her and surrounded her as the smell of gingerbread assaulted her nose. Christmas cookies. Breathing deeply, she cemented the smell to her memory, a last lingering happy memory. The door swung shut behind her and the giggle of a little girl brought the first genuine smile of the day to her lips, quickly followed by tears.

Sidling down the hallway, not bothering to take off her coat, she stepped into the bright kitchen to a happy cry. "Mommy!"

A little girl bounded up to her, pigtails flying behind her like streamers. A bright green jumper with a red turtleneck underneath made her look ridiculously cheesy, but appropriate for the festive Christmas holiday. She lifted the little girl into her arms and gobbled at her cheek. "How are you, my Beckyboo?"

Bubbly giggling erupted from the youngster. "Becky is making Christmas cookies," a brunette woman with jaded green eyes got her attention. The smile on her painted lips was as forced as her words. "Where have you been, Arizona?"

Averting her gaze back to the little girl, Becky, Arizona answered, "Walking."

She knew that the answer wouldn't suffice for her wife. The inevitable would come, it always did. She was desperately trying to hold back the storm. For a few more moments she wanted to hold her perfect three year old daughter. Tiffany, her wife, would get over it. Tiffany had been getting over her behavior for the past week and she was going to have to keep getting over it. Her embroidered Christmas tablecloth, the one Arizona loved, was covering the small kitchen table. It was littered with bowls of frosting and brightly colored sprinkles. "You missed decorating the house because you went shopping. You missed putting up the tree and decorating it to…catch up on phone calls. And you missed decorating Christmas cookies. That's your favorite thing at Christmas."

Arizona opened her mouth to contradict her.

"Don't even. I've been married to you for five years. I know. I can't believe you missed that to…walk. I don't believe it. So who is she?"

Arizona flicked her eyes to Tiffany before looking back to Becky.

"Or is it a he and you've gone straight on me? Are you making Christmas cookies with him?"

Breathing in the smell of Becky's hair, she whispered in her ear. "Baby girl, can you run up to your room and play so Mom and I can talk?"

"Okay," Becky said sweetly.

"Give me a kiss," Arizona said. She held Becky tightly, "I love you, remember that."

Becky skipped down the hall and climbed the stairs on all fours. The banister that she usually held onto was covered in garland. Arizona waited until she heard the door shut before turning to Tiffany, who was looking at her coldly. "All of your stuff is gone. You didn't take off your coat at the door. Your knees are covered in mud. So there's something going on. I've known you long enough to know that when Arizona Robbins doesn't take her coat off at the door, she doesn't expect to stay long. Long enough to…say goodbye, for instance."

Arizona looked away. "This isn't working."

"What isn't?"

"We aren't working," the words slid through Arizona's lips with practiced ease, leaving a bitter taste in the back of her throat. But her lack of hesitation raised Tiffany's suspicions.

"Really?" Tiffany crossed her arms. "So vows mean nothing to you?"

Blue eyes ran up Tiffany's body, from her brown boots to her green sweater that matched her eyes and made her hair shine. Arizona loved that sweater on her. She loved everything about her wife. And vows meant everything to her. But this was easier, it was easier to say that she was breaking her vows than explain to Tiffany what was going on. "Really."

"And when did you decide this? Yesterday? This morning? While you were sipping coffee in the damn fellows' lounge?" Tiffany snapped.

Arizona loved the fire in those eyes. She would miss looking into them. It was easier to lie. It was easier to lie and make good on the vows that she had made, even if Tiffany hated her. "It's been a long time in coming."

"Arizona."

"I thought I loved you, but this," she gestured around the room. "This life isn't what I wanted. Maybe I thought it was, but I've realized that it's not. I can't be here. I can't be happy here." It was the grandest lie she had told yet. Her life was perfect, or at least it had been.

"I'm not an idiot, Arizona," Tiffany followed her into the hallway after she turned away. Her eyes, clouded for what felt like the hundredth time that day, took in her familiar holiday decorations. She let her fingers trail over the picture frame that contained their wedding photo before she slammed it down on the hallway table. She didn't see Tiffany flinch, but she heard the confusion in her voice. "Two weeks ago you said you wouldn't be happier, that this was perfect. That we were perfect."

Her stuff was already packed and gone, packed in her car parked down the street. Arizona put a hand on the silver door knob, but she turned back to look at her wife one last time. Tiffany's hands were fisted, positioned on either wall so that it looked like she was holding the house up by herself. The light from the kitchen set her hair glowing like embers from a fire. It would kill her to say the words that would seal the deal. Biting her lip to keep back the tears, she shook her head. "I don't love you anymore."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and threw open the door. The tears that she had been holding back feebly all day streamed down her cheeks as she stepped out into the bitterly cold night air again. The door shut behind her and she hurried down the street. Her gloved hand found her cell phone in her coat pocket and she quickly redialed the last phone call and the all too familiar number. "It's done. It's over. Leave them alone."

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Robbins," the cold voice purred.

She heard the stress on 'miss.' "We have a deal," Arizona gasped, holding back her emotion.

"As long as you hold up your end of the bargain."

"Don't you dare come near my family!" Arizona all but screamed into the phone.

"Like I said, Ms. Robbins, it was a pleasure doing business with you," the voice said calmly. The beginnings of a cold, impersonal laughable chilled her bones before the line went dead.

Arizona threw the phone onto the concrete and crushed it beneath her boot. She ground the plastic with her heel and choked on her sobs. Her body willed her to crouch down, bent double as she cried. Forcing herself to breathe evenly, she controlled herself and stood. Tossing her head, she stepped forward just as her name was called. "Arizona!" The blood went cold in her veins. She spun. Tiffany was running down the street, her hair flying wildly behind her. "Tiff! Get out of here!"

Confusion crossed the brunette's brow. "What?"

"Please, you don't understand. Go back. Leave me alone. Let me go," Arizona begged.

"You can't just leave. What about Becky?" Tiffany asked, cutting to Arizona's heart.

Letting her watery eyes look directly into Tiffany's, Arizona said, "I'm doing this for her."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. You won't understand. You can't," Arizona looked around, trying to find the men she knew were watching. "I have to do this. Tell her whatever you have to, but please. Tiff, go home."

The brunette's shoulders dropped as snow continued to fall. Her head shook back and forth in disbelief. Arizona turned her back on the love of her life and walked away without another word.

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><p>AN: This fic is an ensemble fic. There is no singular focus. I am trying to expand my talents as a writer and any feedback that you could give me would be greatly appreciated. Any and all characters that belong to Shonda belong to her. Any and all subsequent characters belong to me.

I apologize, but the immensity of the chapters will mean that there is a significant time gap between postings. But I will try my best to make every update more than worth the wait.

Without further explanation and with letting my work use it's own voice, please enjoy Surface of the Sun.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I hope the prologue was enough to capture your attention. Now it's time to dive into the thick of it.

Happy Birthday to my Luxury girl, Alexa. I love you! I hope you have an excellent birthday and an even better year.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_When the past comes back to haunt you, are the stakes ever too high to save the ones you love?_

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><p>It was colder in New York than it was in Seattle. The cloud cover was about the same; but for some reason, it was always colder in New York. Derek hadn't missed the chill or the overbearing feeling that someone was watching him. He blamed the latter on his father. New York was just always colder. Pulling his jacket tighter around his body, he picked his daughter out of the cab. She wrapped her arms around his neck. The driver was piling their bags on the sidewalk beside the cab. Meredith slid out of the car and smiled at him, their son sleeping in her arms. Derek shut the door and put Zola down on the ground. Tapping his foot impatiently, the driver waited for Derek to hand him the cash that would pay for their trip. Nodding gruffly, he left the bags and climbed back into his cab.<p>

Meredith rolled her eyes as the driver pulled away, "As much appreciation for a tip as Seattle huh?"

"Less," Derek laughed. He helped Zola put her backpack on before shouldering their duffle bags and grabbing the rolling luggage. "How's Brandon?"

"Sleeping, for now," Meredith shifted him on her shoulder and kissed her husband. "You didn't tell me how cold it is here."

"Glad it's not just me," Derek said. He pushed open the garden gate of his mother's large suburban house and let his family into the yard. Zola coughed just as she stepped inside. Even though it was a little chilly, the trees were in full bloom and the typical breeze sent their fragrance through the air. Zola's allergies always took a turn for the worst when they came to New York.

As if on cue, Grandma Shepherd came out of the front door of her house with a reprimand, "Derek Shepherd, I know you did not bring me a sick child. You're a doctor for god's sake."

"Hi ma," he leaned in to kiss her cheek before she forgot that he existed and zoned in on her grandchildren. "It's just allergies, right Zo?"

"Right," Zola turned around and grinned at her parents before wiping her nose on her sleeve. Mrs. Shepherd looked at Derek and Meredith disapprovingly.

Meredith took her daughter's arm, "Zola, you know better than that."

The youngster grinned sheepishly and looked at her grandmother. "Hi grandma!"

"My, how old are you now? Ten? Eleven?" the white haired woman crouched down to her granddaughter's level.

"I'm six, grandma," Zola laughed. She threw her arms around her grandma and the older woman picked her up.

"That you are," she laughed. Then she turned to Meredith. "Hello dear, how is my favorite grandson?"

"Sleeping, miraculously," Meredith responded. "I don't know how with that cab ride."

They all turned to walk into the house, Derek still carrying all of their bags. He surveyed the house and saw that everything was as he remembered it. The dark blue paint on the siding was starting to peel; he was amazed that some of it wasn't already completely stripped away. New York had been particularly brutal the previous winter. The flowers in the boxes on the porch were still dead, typical of his mother. She never cleaned out the last year's flowers until late spring. As it was March, he should have expected it. But the inside of the house would be spotless. It was always spotless. Nothing was out of place, ever. Even as a kid, he house was always perfect. He could make the biggest mess and after leaving the room for five minutes it would be spotless again. It had infuriated him.

"Derek," Meredith called over her shoulder and he realized that he'd stopped moving.

"Sorry."

The ground sunk a little underneath his feet. It had been raining for the few days before they'd arrived. He heard Zola telling his mother that she was starting school next year and that her little brother had pulled her braids on the airplane. Meredith laughed and he felt the smile forming on his face. Ever since the day Zola had shown up on their doorstep with the social worker, Meredith had been different. She'd been happy, even when she was exhausted at four in the morning. And then they had finally gotten pregnant with Brandon and she couldn't stop smiling.

The excitement and energy that coursed through their children was infectious. Motherhood had suited Meredith better than Derek had known. Despite her fears that she would become another Ellis Grey, her children had brought something to her that no one else could have. She was bound and determined to give her children the loving and stable life she had never had. Spina bifida plagued their daughter, but Zola stayed under their surveillance constantly and was by far a normal child. Their son was thankfully healthy, but Derek would argue that he was anything from perfect. If ever there was a fussy toddler, Brandon was it. The kid rarely slept. He constantly pulled his sister's braids if she got too close and threw temper tantrums over basically nothing. But Meredith thought he was the next super star surgeon in the family. He certainly had the temperament for it.

Walking through the door, Derek realized how long it had been since he'd been home. White walls met light wood floors, and as he thought the house was spotless. He set the bags down on the landing to his left and followed his family into the sitting room where his mother had deposited herself and the grandchildren. Now Zola was sitting beside her and Brandon was awake in her arms. "I have never seen him awake and that quiet since he was an infant."

"Don't jinx if, Derek," Meredith chastised him. He sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "We need to keep him this way or your mother will never keep them."

"There's drinks in the fridge, Derek," his mother said.

Derek glared at her, "I suppose that means you would like me to get you something?"

"Well, I am holding your son and keeping him quiet," she stated superiorly.

"And you wonder where I get it from," Derek murmured against Meredith's hair. "What would you like, Ma?"

"A coke would be fine, thank you for asking," she said, smiling at the sleepy toddler in her arms. "So Meredith, how was your flight?"

"Good, we caught the wind and gained about an hour. That was nice. Brandon decided that pulling Zola's braids would be a good way to pass the time," Meredith said. "Let's just say that we were not the most loved passengers aboard that plane."

"It would seem not," Mrs. Shepherd said. "You are rotten, little man."

"He's a surgeon."

"Temperament like his father," Mrs. Shepherd nodded. "Don't you tell Derek that I said that either."

Meredith laughed. The smiled that seemed permanently fixed on her lips was now beaming down on her adorable children.

"And this one," Mrs. Shepherd turned to Zola, "is much more like her mother."

"Oh, I disagree," Meredith said. "She's too feisty."

"Like Aunt Cristina," Zola chimed in with a childish grin.

"Brandon doesn't get away with pulling her braids for long if we don't step in," Meredith said. As Zola launched into a tirade about how obnoxious she found her little brother, Meredith took the chance to survey the house that she had never been in. It filled her with dread. China cabinets lined the wall behind her, full of very breakable objects. She could just see Brandon in one of his fits. White walls did not agree with her children, and she feared that when they came back from their trip that they would be repainting the house before they could return to their home.

"Where are you going again?"

Derek's mother's words knocked her out of her reverie. "Ah, Mexico."

"Yes, but what part?"

"Mazatlan," Meredith said in her very American accent. She grimaced at the thought of what Callie would say. She could hear the Latina correcting her. Callie had been trying to fix their accents for weeks, but it had done little good as far as Meredith was concerned. "Hopefully only for a few weeks. The doctor's that they have heading everything up seem to have a pretty good idea of what they are doing."

"Then what are you all needed for? Surely Seattle Grace needn't send _all_ of their finest to this charity."

Handing in mother her coke, Derek reentered the conversation, "Because they don't know how to use the equipment, and they can't train all the staff by themselves. And the first few weeks are going to be busy with a huge influx of people who haven't been able to get medical attention due to their lack of financial means or transportation."

"I see," Mrs. Shepherd handed Brandon back to his mother. "And how do my grandbabies feel about spending the whole spring with their grandmother?"

"I'm not a baby," Zola said defiantly.

"Oh yes," Mrs. Shepherd said. "She's nothing like you at all, Meredith."

The adults broke out laughing. Zola glared at them. She hated being called a baby. Brandon was the baby. She didn't cry or whine like he did. She didn't pull his hair the way he pulled her braids, which gave her a headache. She was six years old, she was a big girl. "I'm not a baby."

"We know you aren't, sweetheart," Derek pulled her onto his lap and began tickling her to elicit that happy giggle. They talked for a little longer about their trip and then grandma decided it was lunch time.

Once the sandwiches were made and the chips were passed around the table, Zola asked a question. "Mommy, where are we going?"

With a careful glance at Derek, Meredith cautiously chose her words, "Mommy and Daddy have to go to Mexico for work."

"Am I going?"

"No. You have to stay here and help grandma take care of Brandon. You're the big girl remember?"

"I need your help, Zo," Mrs. Shepherd said. Making Zola believe that she was the key difference in success was the best approach to getting her to do something.

"Well, alright. Will I get to go sometime?"

"Sure," Meredith said with a reassuring smile. "One day, maybe when your brother is as grown up as you."

Zola puffed up with pride and began munching on her grilled cheese sandwich. The adults breathed a sigh of relief and Derek was thankful that his mother hadn't said anything about them not telling the children that they were leaving for an extended trip and they would have to stay with their grandmother. In between bites, a now curious Zola wanted all of the details. "Why are you going?"

"They built a new hospital," Derek said simply. But he knew that his daughter would require much more of a description than that.

"So?"

"So we have to go help the doctors down there," Meredith supplied a better explanation than her husband.

"Are they stupid?"

"Zola!"

"Sorry."

"They are not stupid. They just have a lot to do so we are going to help them. Kind of like how you help me clean the house," Meredith continued.

"Does Sofia get to go?"

"No, Sofia does not get to go."

"Who is Sofia?"

Derek answered, "Mark, Callie, and Arizona's daughter."

"Oh yes, my other son."

"Are Mrs. Callie, Mrs. Arizona, and Mr. Mark going to Mexico?" Zola continued to pester them with questions.

"Yes."

"Where is Sofia going?"

"To her grandparents, just like you," Derek said. "Now eat."

Every other question was about Sofia. The two girls had gotten to be close friends at the hospital daycare. Rolling her eyes, Meredith got up and poured Zola more juice before setting more bites out for Brandon to scrutinize. "She won't eat unless she has something to drink with it."

"A useful piece of information," Mrs. Shepherd said with a smile. "She can have as much as she wants."

"I wouldn't say that," Derek cautioned. "She drinks like a camel that has been stranded in the middle of the desert for months. As if she'd never seen a liquid. Slow down, Zo!"

The youngster sat her cup back down on the table and picked up her sandwich again. They continued to eat in a peaceful silence until the checked tablecloth was littered with nothing more than crumbs and empty plates. Derek reached over and picked Brandon up out of the old highchair. Grabbing Zola's hand he led them upstairs to his old bedroom where the bunk beds still laid nestled against the wall from when Mark lived with them. He got Zola into the lower bunk and pulled out the port-a-crib his mother had gotten for his son.

"Nap time."

Zola nodded with a yawn, "But I'm not tired, Daddy."

"Yes, you are," he smiled. "We had a long day. Mommy is going to take a nap too."

"What about you?"

"I have work to do," he said. "Goodnight."

His room was untouched from his youth and when he turned out the light his superman night light flicked on. He knew that hadn't been there for years and he smiled at the thought of his mother pulling it out for his kids. Brandon would love the room in a few years. It was just the kind of room a little boy dreamed of. Superhero collectibles lined the shelves, neatly displayed but well played with. Marvel and DC comic books, in plastic protective sleeves, lay in haphazard piles on the floor. The posters on the wall of Batman and Spiderman reminded him of a much different time. A time when all he wanted was to be like them and got after the men who killed his father. His tuba was still leaning against the wall by his closet, safely stored in its hard case. He looked and remembered for another moment before shutting the door to the bedroom and his memories.

"I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost," his mother said with a knowing glance at her son as he descended the carpeted stairs.

"Just reaffirming that you are, in fact, a pack rat, mom," he laughed.

"I see," she smiled. "He'll have to show you his room when the kids wake up, Meredith. You two can walk down memory lane together."

Meredith turned and flashed Derek an excited wink before following Mrs. Shepherd back into the family room. The woman had been talking about Zola starting school the following fall and whether or not Brandon would be going to preschool. Zola was enrolled at The Bush School for the fall. They wanted to give her the best education they could afford. Brandon was going to attend a local jumpstart program, but they had yet to iron out the kinks with their work schedules.

"Sofia, poor kid, her parents are already bickering about schools," Meredith said.

"She's younger?"

"Yes, she still has a year. But Callie wants her enrolled early and at a private school. Arizona wants public school so that Sofia has a normal life, no prep school."

"Ah, I thought that she and Zola were the same age for some reason. So, Mark?"

"Couldn't care less," Derek answered. "It's Mark. He's just happy making Sofia happy. It's Callie and Arizona that you have to watch out for. They are the real authority."

"Derek!"

"What, Meredith?" he shot her a look. "You have to admit that Mark tends to act more like a cool uncle. He has his say, but Callie and Arizona usually present a united front."

"As it should be," Mrs. Shepherd stated.

"Mom?"

"They are the stable couple, correct?" she asked with a noncommittal shrug. "Mark should have less of a role as a parent until he gets his act together."

"Mom, that's not what I meant. They've worked out the co-parenting thing quite nicely, I think. Arizona and Mark even offered to loan Sofia to us had we not gotten Zola. I'm not sure if it was a joke or not, but they are firmly of the belief that it takes a village to raise a child. But seeing the two of them get along is strange, or it used to be. I guess it's more normal now."

"Do you remember him screaming at Arizona right after Callie's accident? I thought one of them would end up dead," Meredith said, her hand coming to rest on Derek's forearm.

"I think the whole hospital did."

"What happened?" Mrs. Shepherd was always eager to hear the hospital gossip, especially when it concerned her children. Ever since Mark was a boy, she had deemed him her adopted son.

"Well this was years ago," Meredith explained. "But Mark and Arizona were arguing over how best to save Callie's life and the baby, Sofia, and Mark told Arizona that she was nothing. That Callie and Sofia were his family and she didn't have a say."

"That man," Derek sighed as his mother went on another tirade about how Mark needed to grow up and learn some respect. "I swear, he has no common sense. He gets a hot head about everything, all you surgeons do. At least the ones who grew up in this family. Speaking of family, Amelia is coming tomorrow, Derek. But Mark especially. I cannot believe that he would actually say something like that to someone. I need to have another–"

"Ma," Derek cut her off. "He's a grown man, you don't need to sit him down and have a talk with him about anything. They worked it out."

Mrs. Shepherd looked at him reproachfully.

"And what is this about Amelia coming?"

"She said that she needed a break from L.A. So she is coming home to help me watch those two," she indicated upstairs, "while you two are off."

Derek groaned. Amelia was not who he wanted influencing his children. Before a fight broke out though, Meredith slid her hand down into Derek's and told him that she was tired and needed to be shown what room they were staying in. His mother called after them that Nancy's room was all ready for them.

"Don't say anything, Derek," Meredith warned as he grabbed their luggage from the landing to take upstairs with them.

"We're going to come back from Mexico to find our kids strung out on sleeping pills," he growled under his breath. "I love my sister, but she's not who I want looking after my kids."

"They will be fine. Amelia has been sober for years. She's not going to turn out kids into druggies."

He glared at her, but opened the door to his older sister's room and hauled their luggage inside. In contrast to his dark blue room, Nancy's room was a light, bright yellow. Ornate furniture left an air of sophistication that had always suited his sister well. Fake flowers in baskets decorated the dressers and glass lamps engraved with similar flowers adorned the bedside tables. It was really as if time had stopped in this house the day he moved out for college. Stowing their luggage by the double doors of the closet, he flopped down on the bed with Meredith.

"Stay with me," she whispered, kissing his gruff cheek. He needed to shave.

"Work calls," he laughed at the face she made. She hated when he let his stubble grow out and get rough.

"We can worry about that speech tomorrow."

"You mean 'I' can worry about it," he grinned at her. She was just along for the ride this time.

"Right."

The mischievous light in her eyes won him over and he kissed her gently before getting underneath the covers. They had a convention tomorrow for all of the teams heading down to Mexico. While exhaustion was no stranger to them, this was one task they needed to be ready for. They left in two days to meet Owen with Cristina and Teddy down in Houston, where they would present information gleaned from this conference to other parties before heading to Mazatlán to actually give this new hospital life.

"It's going to be a long day tomorrow," he sighed. "This whole process has been…"

"…incredible."

"Yes, incredible. Incredibly drawn out and unnecessary. Why we can't all convene in Mazatlán makes no sense to me," he huffed.

Meredith kissed him. "It's the politics of it. They want the best publicity and in order to get that they have to do everything here."

"When did you get so insightful?" he asked her.

She laughed, "I wish."

They laid in silence for a few moments. She could hear his heart beating from the way she was cradled on his chest. He counted the slowing breaths that she took as her eyes began to drift shut. It had been a long couple of days for them. The trip to Mexico had started out sounding like a vacation, but it was quickly turning into more work than anyone had imagined. Not to mention that everyone who had kids had to make long term care arrangements.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Meredith finally whispered.

"They'll be fine. They're with their grandmother," Derek assured her.

"But what about Zola," Meredith pushed.

He gave in. "I guess it's a good thing that my sister is coming after all. My mother probably called her on purpose."

Meredith frowned, he could feel her face shift against his chest, "Brandon is so young though."

"He will be fine. We'll give them lots of hugs and kisses and we'll call them every night, and it will be fine."

* * *

><p>"We should have let your father come visit and take Sofia back with him. How much simpler would that have been?"<p>

"How many times do we have to go over this?" Callie sighed in frustration, packing the last of her personal items into one of two duffle bags laying open on the bed.

"Seriously, then we wouldn't be going through all of this. Think about it."

"No, you think about it, Arizona," Callie said. "You wouldn't have been able to stand it, nor would I, or Mark, watching her leave on that plane."

"Do you realize how long we are going to be on a plane now though?" Arizona followed Callie around the room. "First Miami, and then all the way back across the country to the middle of Mexico?"

Callie rolled her eyes and continued packing her scrubs, ignoring her wife's constant pestering. This was how it had been for the entire past week leading up to their impending flights. The second half of their trip would be mostly over water, but she was tired of trying to explain that to Arizona. This was going to be a long trip, undoubtedly. She would rather spend two days on a plane and know that her daughter was safe. And Arizona felt the same way; they had made this decision together.

"Do you realize how many hours–"

"Yes, Africa, I get it," Callie finally snapped. "You've been saying all of this for a week, never mind that it doesn't make a difference because we leave in a few hours. So pack and get over it. We're going across the country and back."

Arizona walked out of their bedroom no longer fuming, but hurt. She didn't think that four years later Callie would still be holding Africa against her. But Callie had always told her that she was the queen of holding grudges. Slumping onto the couch, she stared at the bags by the door. She'd been packed for days and she'd packed all of Sofia's things that morning. Callie was the one who always waited until the last minute. Sofia's pick luggage, which she had picked out herself, was stacked beside her duffle bags. The youngster was currently asleep, a feat neither of them knew how they had managed to pull off. Hopes were high that they could keep her sleepy enough so that she would sleep through the plane ride to Miami, but their four year old had a mind of her own.

Being honest, she had been harping for a week about the same thing. No wonder Callie was sick of it. Hands rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wipe some of the exhaustion away, she stood to go back into the bedroom.

"I'm sorry," Callie startled her from behind the couch. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it how it sounded."

The blonde nodded slowly. "I'm already packed, in case you haven't noticed."

Callie's melodic laughter rang out and she hugged her wife close. "I love you."

Arizona sighed, "I hate this."

"Yeah."

"I don't want to leave her for that long. Not with your mother at least," Arizona said bitterly.

"Ahhh, so that's your problem," Callie grinned and dug her fingers into Arizona's sides, causing the blonde to gasp in surprise.

"No! Calliope stop! Stop!" Arizona snorted in laughter. She jumped out of Callie's arms and ran a few paces back out of arm's reach. "Yes, I have an issue with your mother. I know she's been better lately, but what if she starts putting ideas in Sofia's head or, or neglects her, or–"

Callie held up her hand to silence her wife. "Stop."

Arizona hung her head. "I worry about her."

"I know," Callie said. "You think I don't?"

"You know that's not what–"

"She will be fine. My parents will be great with her, and my sister will be there part of the time so she'll have three cousins to play with," Callie smiled. She could see the worry written over the lines of her wife's face. "And we'll be back with her before we know it.

Arizona let Callie pull her into her arms again, soothe her with a hummed melody, and rock her in a quiet dance. This was one of the many reasons why she loved her wife. Calliope could see the worry and questions on her face and assure her without having to say a word. The smell of Callie's hair was the most comforting scent. To distress after work she would simply bury her head in Callie's thick mane of hair and breathe. Her arms tightened around Callie. The guilt of things she could never explain sometimes overwhelmed her in moments like this. Her wife would never understand why she was terrified for her daughter's safety, so she pawned off her feelings on Callie's less than supportive mother, who had very recently come around to at least acknowledge their relationship and their daughter. She hadn't been plagued by these fears for years; she'd never had a reason to. As long as she was with her family, she didn't have to worry about them. But those fears that had made it so easy to walk away from Callie before were the reasons why it was so hard for her to leave even one member of her family behind now. She didn't even like that Mark wouldn't be going with them.

Callie felt Arizona's grip around her tighten. It was one of those things that she had stopped arguing about. Her wife had secrets, secrets about her past that she wasn't and had never been willing to share. But they were dark secrets; her wife had gotten into something dirty and underhanded and had paid a dear price. That much was what she had deduced on her own intuition. She would let Arizona hold on, she would let Arizona move past the place that she was at on her own, and then they would be off on their grand Mexican adventure. Tucking Arizona's head beneath her chin, she breathed in the familiar scent that was her wife. They'd been through a lot, from Arizona being willing to walk away at the drop of a hat to her dragging all of them with her to Africa. And those plane rides with a toddler were murder. She would have rather been told that she could never perform surgery again than fly to Malawi that many times.

The house was spotless. Arizona cleaned like it was going out of style, and for Callie it had. She hated cleaning the house. That was why she cooked. It was a system that they had worked out early in their relationship and were slowly perfecting. Every now and then they would switch it up for a change of pace, though when Arizona cooked it was with Mark's help. She saw Arizona's and Sofia's bags by the door. She knew that Arizona's passport was tucked in her purse, along with the plane tickets and Sofia's stuffed tiger. She didn't have to look to know. Arizona was always prepared.

Meanwhile, she had a half packed duffle bag in the bedroom and had yet to find her passport. They were leaving in less than four hours and wouldn't be back for at least a month. The realization startled her. "Babe," she whispered.

"Mmm," Arizona murmured against her chest, her fingers flexing over Callie's back.

"I need to go finish packing. And we have to get Sofia up and ready. I have to find my passport still and we have to make sure–"

"I have your passport," Arizona looked up and smiled. "And I'll get the angel."

"So I can pack?"

"So you can pack."

Callie smiled and ran a hand through her long wavy hair. She preferred it a little shorter, but Arizona always commented on it when it was longer like this. She liked the way her wife teased it and pulled it when they were making love. So she kept it long.

Running into the bathroom, she grabbed her toothbrush and stuffed it into the small leather bag she had her shampoo, conditioner, and face wash in. Double checking the bag, she zipped it and tossed it in the duffle bag open on her bed. She had about thirty pairs of scrubs, three lab coats, her favorite scrub caps, and enough lingerie to last a honeymoon couple three months. It was an interesting bag, she laughed to herself. She and Arizona had never gotten to go on their honeymoon, so leaving a few days early under the pretense of making sure that everything was ready for the group was giving them something resembling a honeymoon. At least to some extremely busy person, it could be seen that way. That was how Arizona was looking at it, and was planning heavily on. But Callie had a different goal for this trip.

All of her information had led her to Mazatlán, but she'd never had a reason to go before. And she most likely never would again. Explaining to Arizona why she needed to take a sudden and extended trip to Mexico was impossible, especially with Sofia. In hindsight, she should have gone after Arizona left her in the airport years ago. But she hadn't, so now she was sneaking around and clearing her computer history of gang research and tricking her wife into a fake honeymoon so that she could find her brother.

Snapping out of the thoughts, she stuffed a steno pad full of notes into her bag before zipping it up. She could hear Sofia's happy giggling in the living room, and Arizona chiding her about her choice in shoes. Rolling her eyes, she shouldered her heavy duffle bags.

"Mamá!" Sofia lit up when she saw Callie.

"Hi sleepyhead, are you giving Mommy a hard time?" Callie sat her bags down and picked her four year old up. Sofia shook her head and smacked Callie in the face with a messy pigtail. "All ready to go see tus abuelos?"

"Sí, Mamá," Sofia laughed as Callie tickled her. Arizona grabbed the bags on the floor and Callie bent down to re-shoulder her duffle bags.

"Then let's go," Callie gave her cheek a kiss and winked at Arizona. "Time to get some dinner and then get on the plane." Between dinner and the security line, Sofia was starting to get bored and antsy. They had another half an hour to wait for their flight. Arizona pulled out her iPhone and played an episode of Blues Clues to keep Sofia occupied. "The invention of those things was a god send."

Callie put her arm around Arizona's shoulders and kissed her forehead. The blonde closed her eyes for a moment. They flashed open again when Callie laughed. "You sure about that?"

Sofia was standing up in her seat, bouncing on her still chubby legs. Arizona's iPhone was sliding further and further down, getting closer to Sofia's foot. She snatched it up before it could get stomped to pieces. That was the only thing about those phones; they were the farthest thing from indestructible. Callie started laughing as Arizona scowled.

"I told you," Callie started.

"I am not getting one of those otterbox whatyoumacallit things," Arizona said quickly. "They are big and gaudy and I like my pink sparkly rhinestone case. It's thin and fits in my pocket."

"And when your phone shatters because you," Callie paused briefly as she searched for an example, "let Sofia play with it, don't come crying to me."

Arizona cocked her head, "That's mean."

"Everyone needs a little tough love," Callie grinned.

Arizona mocked her.

"Umm, ladies," a uniformed attendant holding Sofia appeared before them. "I think this belongs to you."

Callie's tan cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She disentangled herself from her wife and took her daughter from the young man. "I'm so sorry."

"Not a problem. She's delightful," he winked at Sofia before walking away.

Arizona groaned, "You are already breaking hearts. Your father was right; we're going to be beating the guys"

"and girls"

"off with sticks," Arizona said. They chuckled together for a minute.

"Did you just say that Mark was right?" Callie asked, eyebrows raised.

Arizona thought for a moment, a sour look crossing her face, "I did, didn't I? Ugh."

Their flight to Miami was uneventful. Sofia thankfully took a little nap so they weren't the hated parents who couldn't control their kid. They met Callie's parents at the airport for the hand off. By that point, Sofia was grumpy and nearly unmanageable. She'd been restless on the plane and by the time she saw her grandparents she was hardly able to stay in anyone's arms for more than five minutes before squirming out of them. After a quick hello, goodbye, and a kiss on the cheek, they said goodbye to their daughter and left to find their terminal for their next flight.

On the plane this time, Arizona sidled up to Callie, running a hand over the brunette's thigh and squeezing, indicating that she was very ready for their fake honeymoon. Callie flashed her a sexy grin and gave her a kiss, catching the light wandering hand with her own before they made too much of a public display. "Someone is horny."

"We haven't had time to ourselves like this since before Sofia was born," Arizona growled against Callie's neck.

"We'll have plenty of time once we get to Mazatlán," Callie purred back. As much as she loved her wife's attention, the flight attendant was making his rounds and she really didn't want to get told off. That was most certainly not the way to start a fake honeymoon or a real one.

"I love the way you say that," Arizona growled again, this time against Callie's ear with a hot whisper.

"Arizona."

"Calliope."

"Peanuts?" the flight attendant turned to them.

"No thanks," Callie replied with an apologetic smile. "Babe?"

"Ah no, I'm good."

"Alright," he said smoothly and turned back to the next row.

"Seriously, Arizona," Callie turned to face her wife. "Not on the plane."

The baleful glare she received was enough to change her mind, but a second flight attendant came around to get drink orders and saved her from rescinding her words. Arizona settled, eventually, for laying her head on Callie's shoulder and napping for the remainder of their flight. But she was wide awake again once they landed. The car that Callie's money got them drove them past the hospital on Arizona's direction. While Arizona stared at the sterile white building untouched by graffiti and poverty behind the barbed wire fence, Callie's eyes shifted over the streets and dilapidated buildings. She picked out a drug deal on the corner and gang symbols spray painted on concrete walls that would be unnoticed by someone like her wife. She saw what she was looking for. She was right about this place. And if she was as right as she thought, then finding her brother would be easy. Getting him out would be a game of chance.

* * *

><p>Derek remembered these hospital halls from his days of owning his practice. He missed them, in the way one misses their childhood at certain points. Navigating them would have been easy even if he hadn't remembered. The directive signs pointed them straight to the big presentation auditorium where most of the other doctors milling about were slowly making their way. Meredith followed behind him, neither of them having seen anyone yet that they knew, but today wasn't about that. The directors of the new hospital and the panel that had assembled to bring it to life would be speaking. Instructions would be given for the following day and those traveling down to Mazatlán would be given the chance to meet the other doctors that they would be working with for the next several weeks. No one knew how long they would be required to stay.<p>

As the leader of the team from Seattle Grace Mercy West, Derek would be speaking the next day. Seattle Grace had donated many of their top surgeons to train the crew down in Mexico on all of the new equipment and procedures that would be put into place. Not many other hospitals had been so willing to donate so much manpower at once but Owen Hunt, resident Chief of Surgery, had known that a team that already knew how to work together as a cohesive unit would bring a lot more success than a patchwork of doctors from multiple hospitals. He himself was making the trip for the first week or so to make sure that everything ran smoothly for his doctors.

Derek and Meredith settled into the audience and noted that the directors of the new hospital were Hispanic and not Caucasian as everyone had previously thought. "Keeping the heritage alive?"

"Why do I feel like Callie should be here instead of us?" Derek whispered to his wife.

"I think it's good. They shouldn't have a bunch of old white guys running a Hispanic hospital," she laughed with him. "But yeah, maybe Callie should have come."

"Couldn't interrupt her faux honeymoon," Derek reminded her.

"Even though she's spent the last month correcting the way everyone says 'Mazatlán'?"

"Oh," Derek looked at her with surprise. "That was pretty good."

A hush descended over the room and the door slammed in the back as the last doctors joined the audience. The lights dimmed and Meredith pulled out the little notebook she always took notes in. Derek settled in for a long day of her anxious habit, clicking the pen open and shut.

"Good morning," a tall Mexican man stood in front of them. His English was good, but they could hear his accent. "Thank you all for coming to New York today. It has been a long journey to get to this part, and for those of you leaving with us tomorrow for Mazatlán it will be a long road back. Our goal is to change lives in Mexico. And maybe we'll touch a few foreign hearts as well."

"He's good," Derek noted to Meredith. She leaned her head on his shoulder and nodded.

"I am Doctor Abuerto-Gonzalez, director of Nueva Vida Hospital in Mazatlán, Mexico. I arrived here three days ago after overseeing the final preparations for your arrival there. We are ready for you."

The audience let out a murmur of laughter.

"We have a lot of work to do. Many of our surgeons are not as highly trained as you all, but they have just as much skill. And they have heart, courage, endurance, things you will need it you are going to survive in Mexico. It is not as nice there as it is here. But enough with the pleasantries, we have business to attend to."

An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of Meredith's stomach. This doctor knew something that he wasn't letting on. It could be that he didn't want to cause a panic, but she got the feeling that Mexico was not as ready for them as he made it out to be. As the morning wore on, the feeling didn't go away, though it lessened considerably. It may have just been her imagination playing on her fears of leaving her children for so long. She had to keep telling herself that they had all signed up for this. They wanted to make a difference, and Owen wanted to put Seattle Grace's name in print as one of the top charitable hospitals in the country. She convinced herself that it was more about making a difference to the hundreds of poor Mexican locals than the publicity though. She would never have agreed to this if it was purely about the publicity.

They let out for lunch and Derek pulled Meredith down a secluded hallway. At her protests he reminded her that he used to work there and it was perfectly fine. His eyes darted from room to room until he found the supply closet he had been looking for.

"Derek!" Meredith chided when he pulled her inside. "We cannot."

He smiled and kissed her, pressing her back against the door and locking it before reaching up to frame her face with his hands, "Why?"

"Because!"

"We do it at work all the time," he said between kisses.

"And we always get caught!"

"I locked the door this time." His lips caressed her neck.

"This is not our hospital!"

"All the more reason," he smirked at her. "I just want to kiss my wife, is that a problem?"

"Well…no."

"Good." Her further protests were silenced by his lips descending over her and his hands wandering up her sides beneath her shirt. This was their thing, sex in closets at work. But growling stomachs eventually broke their wanton mouths apart. Readjusting their clothing, they headed back down the hallway and out into the main lobby where signs directing them to one of several large conference rooms that had been turned into a buffet. They loaded up and found somewhere to sit and eat before being recognized by one of Derek's old colleagues.

Formal introductions were made and Meredith found herself playing the role of wife again. She hated the role, but Derek was world class and she was not, so she allowed him to have his spotlight. She had learned how to play the part well when he was Chief, for that brief interval of time, and it came in handy during instances such as this.

"Whatever happened to that Alzheimer's trial I heard you were working on?" his buddy asked. "That was ground breaking stuff."

"It just didn't work out. We weren't making any progress," Derek covered smoothly. He'd felt Meredith tense at his side. It was water under the bridge as far as they were concerned, but the world seemed contrived to hold it against them forever. "What about you, Rick? Any research projects under way?"

"Not at the moment. This project has taken up most of my time. Myself and a few of my guys are heading down to support the psych department. One of my guys is fluent in Spanish and apparently they need all the help they can get with translators."

"I guess it's a good thing one of our doctors is fluent too," Derek said with a smile at Meredith.

"Really? Who?" Rick asked, sitting down to talk some more."

"Calliope Torres," Meredith answered. "She's our Ortho Attending."

"Really?" Rick drew it out. Meredith gave a sidelong look at Derek, this guy was a creep.

Derek didn't know whether to grimace or laugh. Rick had always had a thing for foreign women.

"Maybe I'll get the chance to talk with her some," he grinned like a Cheshire cat. "She sounds intriguing."

Finally deciding to laugh, Derek commented, "She is. Her wife finds her very much so."

Rick's face dropped. "Oh, well, alright then. It was good talking to you, Derek. Nice to meet you, Meredith."

Meredith broke out into laughter once he had walked away. "Seriously?"

"That's Rick."

"We have to tell Callie when we meet up with her."

"From a safe distance away from Robbins," Derek added. The perky blonde was a jealous thing and more intimidating that most gave her credit for.

When they finally made it back to Derek's mother's house that evening, exhausted didn't begin to describe how they felt. Brain dead was more like it. After lunch they had been split into various teams that corresponded with their roles in the project. Meredith had gone one way, while Derek another, so that they could survey the new equipment and supplies that were to be transported down to the Nueva Vida hospital while they were there. Meredith had never seen so many hundred thousand dollar machines in one room before. Scopes and lasers were gathered together, while three brand new CT machines, all brand new, were pushed against the far wall. New computers and mobile station kits were numbered and organized at the back of the room. They were given equipment lists and told when each group would be arriving in Mexico.

Derek ended up in a supply closet that had been transformed into a drug store. He'd never seen this much medicine amassed in one place before. Boxes and crates were stacked floor to ceiling and wall to wall, with narrow walkways in between. The drugs were to be loaded into vans that night so that they could be shipped out to the airport the next day when the doctors were prepared to leave. There were refrigerators in the back of the room containing more medicine that had to be kept cold.

"How are we shipping that?" he had asked. The answer was temperature controlled shipping crates, industrial standard.

They went upstairs to Nancy's room so that they could change out of their suits and lab coats and into more comfortable clothing after greeting their children. It had been a long and interesting day, but something inside of them was ready to tackle this challenge. First, however, Derek had to tackle the challenge of his sister. When they returned to the living room, Derek gave Amelia a hug.

"You screw up my kids, and there'll be hell to pay," he warned.

"Relax," Amelia said. "Zo and Brandon love their aunt and she loves them. I've been sober for four years, Derek. I'm not going to harm your children. Trust me."

Derek caught the warning glance from his mother. "Okay."

"So how was your day?" Mrs. Shepherd asked Meredith. "Tell us all about it."

"Well," Meredith pulled Zola into her lap. "We sat in long boring meetings and then made sure a lot of equipment was all there, and then had another long boring meeting."

"No lunch?" Zola asked, horrified.

"We had lunch," Derek assured her with a wink to his wife.

"I saw that Derek Shepherd," his mother chided. "Shame on you."

He waved her off, "What about you're day, Zo?"

"Made cookies with grandma!" she beamed. Hopping up from Meredith's lap, she took off running for the kitchen and brought back chocolate chip cookies. She handed both of her parents a cookie and stared them down until they ate them.

"Very good," Meredith smiled at her. "You are the official cookie maker from now on."

As Zola continued to feed her mother cookies, Derek turned to his son. "What about you?"

"Play rucks wiff Amy," he grinned and held up his favorite truck.

As they continued to sit and play with the kids, the television program switched over to the news. A crime alert highlighted the robbery of three pharmacies that day. Concern crept through Meredith again. The robbers hadn't taken money, they'd taken drugs. A lot of drugs. She shrugged it off to coincidence. Some idiot making crystal meth in his basement in New York had nothing to do with their impending trip to Mexico or with her delusional feelings about the director lying to them. It had just been a long day and she was ready for bed. Derek had yet to write his speech for the next day, so after a kiss she left him alone with his computer so that he could get his work done. "I'm off to bed."

"I'll be up soon," he said. "This won't take long."

* * *

><p>The night before, while she'd been in the bathroom preparing for bed, Arizona had overheard Callie on the phone. She'd barely cracked the door to listen in and heard her wife deep in a heated conversation. Her natural nosiness prompted her to listen in, but she found that everything coming from the Latina's mouth was in her fluent rapid Spanish. She really needed to learn the language. Knowing enough to get by and being able to understand her wife's speech were two opposite points separated by a vast sea of understanding that she didn't have time for. After Callie had finished the conversation, Arizona had exited the bathroom.<p>

"What was that?" she had asked.

"Ah, no one," Callie lied. "Just someone from the embassy confirming that everything was in order for the team."

"You sounded kind of angry," Arizona persisted.

Callie had just rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it, baby. We have better things to do tonight."

And just like that, Arizona had known that Callie was hiding something from her. But she let her wife get away with it. She knew that she was going to get a lot more out of the night if she didn't start a fight. When she woke, she was still wary of the phone conversation, the night before had all but erased it from her mind. It had been a long time since they had been that free and at liberty to consummate their relationship wildly and passionately. Having a child who was curious about everything was hampering their sex life considerably. They needed this break.

The fact that Callie was gone brought the phone conversation quickly back to her mind. Her eyes flashed open. Her hand blindly felt the bed beside her confirming what she already knew. Callie was gone. But her side of the bed was warm. She hadn't been gone long. Arizona sat up, her piercing eyes searching the room. Callie's shoes were still by her suitcase on the floor. Catching movement, she turned towards the balcony. The glass door was slightly open and the warm breeze swayed the curtain. A smile crossed her face and she let her heart beat calm before stretching.

Callie turned away from her view of the city and let out a low wolf whistle when Arizona stepped out onto the balcony wrapped in the sheet from the bed. "See something you like?"

"Mmhmm," Callie raised her eyebrow appreciatively. "But I think I'd like to see a little more."

Arizona let the fire in Callie's eyes get to her and before she knew it her wife had her back against the railing. Strong hands had slipped under the sheet and were running firmly over her bare skin. "Calliope. Not on the balcony."

"Take a risk," Callie flicked her tongue over the shell of Arizona's ear.

Leaning into her wife's mouth, her body was not matching her protestations. "It's daylight."

"Hardly, it's early," Callie's lips drifted over her wife's pale neck. Her hands slid down over Arizona's hips and over her ass. "Live a little, it's Mexico."

"You had a plan," Arizona whispered, her voice squeaking when Callie hit her pulse point with her tongue.

"I did. To lure you outside," Callie pulled the sheet out of Arizona's hands and draped it over the railing, "to seduce you," she sunk to her knees, "to make you scream."

"Callie," Arizona gasped. She let her eyes roll back in her head as Callie's tongue slid over the insides of her thighs. Her breaths got shorter as the warm tongue centered and dipped between her slick folds. She felt Callie hum and her hands gripped the rail tighter. The woman beneath her knew her so perfectly that it wasn't long before the screams Callie had promised were building in the back of Arizona's throat. Stuffing her fist in her mouth to stifle them, she prayed that she didn't wake anyone up.

After their rendezvous on the balcony, Arizona stepped into the shower. Callie slid into a nondescript track suit and pulled her hair up in a ponytail. She was just pulling her sneakers on when she heard the water shut off. Trying to slip out the door quietly, she booked it to the elevators. She didn't want to lie to Arizona, but she had to get her bearings on the city. The artwork on the buildings would tell her where she needed to go. If Arizona hadn't overheard her conversation last night, a quick jog and bringing back breakfast would be easily understood. But Arizona had overheard the conversation. It was going to have to be one hell of a breakfast that she brought back. Stepping outside of their hotel, she let her eyes wander.

To the left, it seemed like the city grew more clustered; to the right it appeared to thin out and get a little classier. Turning to the right, she took off at a slow jog. Her eyes kept busy, searching out the slight signs unnoticed by most other tourists. Growing up in Miami she had learned how to tell the gang signs subtly added to street murals which gave directions and instructions. There was a particular string of symbols that she was looking for. The group that her brother had belonged to owned a particular signature.

A voice brought her to a screeching halt. "Calliope Iphigenia Torres!"

"Fuck," Callie cursed under her breath. She turned around and saw a very angry blonde jogging up behind her, wet hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

"What the hell is going on?" Arizona all but screamed. "Weird phone calls in the middle of the night and now you sneaking out on me?"

"Baby, I was just going for a jog," Callie put her hands on Arizona's shoulders to steady her. "And then, I was going to bring you back a great breakfast and finish where we left off this morning."

"You're lying to me through your teeth and I know it," Arizona snapped.

"Babe, we're causing a scene."

"This is our honeymoon!"

Callie smiled apologetically at the people who had gathered to watch. "I know."

"You're lying to me. We've been married for four years and you're lying to me on our honeymoon!" Arizona ranted, throwing her hands up in the air and subsequently shaking Callie's off of her shoulders.

"Arizona, would you like to go get breakfast with me?" Callie asked calmly. She had to get out of this one.

"No," Arizona turned to leave. "If you want to lie to me, then I'm going back to our room."

"Honey," Callie caught her by the arm. "Mi Corazon, please come to breakfast with me."

Arizona flashed her eyes up to Callie so the Latina could see that she was not off the hook yet. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

Rolling her eyes, Callie turned back towards the classier end of town. Her eyes caught a flash of lime green as she did so. "Really? You went back to the store and bought them?"

"Yes," Arizona said arrogantly. "And you are in no position to question my purchases right now, Mrs. Torres. Are you coming?"

With a shake of her head, Callie took off up the slight hill to catch up with her wife. Arizona was a shopaholic of the worst kind, but Callie had to admit that it brought a bit of eccentricity to their life. She also had to admit that Arizona was right and she would be better off keeping her mouth shut. They settled into an easy pace together as they jogged around the city. Arizona pointed out various monuments and sights as Callie pretended to pay attention. Her eyes were constantly shifting and picking out the symbols that would lead her to her brother. They were definitely in the right place. Following the blonde ponytail in front of her, she let Arizona get them hopelessly lost before pulling over to a secluded little store for breakfast. After a light meal that Callie had to order for them due to the language barrier, they continued to walk around the city.

"Callie," Arizona said, "isn't this fascinating?" But she was talking to air. She turned and searched the surrounding area for her wife. She found her deep in conversation with a middle aged Hispanic man.

"¿Sinaloá y Pacifico Sur? Sí. Gracias," Callie thanked the man before Arizona could get close. She looked sheepishly at her wife as the man slipped away into the crowd. "I was asking him about somewhere special to take you."

Arizona leveled her gaze. "Really? Sounded more like you were talking about gangs."

Callie's face blanked and betrayed her shock.

Arizona laughed. "Relax, I'm just messing with you."

"Oh," Callie shook her head. "Right."

"Look at this," Arizona pointed to the street mural she'd been looking at. "It looks like the others, I know, but something is different about it."

Callie stepped closer to scrutinize the mural. She recognized symbols that had been strategically placed within it. What she didn't notice was that the man she had been formerly talking to was watching her and communicating with someone on the phone, or the way he disappeared after she got too close to the mural for too long.

"Callie?" Arizona called.

"Sorry," Callie said, turning back to her wife. "I just recognized it from somewhere." She knew those symbols and she knew where to find her brother.

Arizona had questions in her eyes again and Callie's begged her not to ask them. "You're explaining all of this to me tonight, at this special place that you're taking me to."

"Fine," Callie responded, relieved. "More sightseeing?"

* * *

><p>Derek was the last speaker. After his speech they would be heading out to their flights. He stood before the mass of surgeons and cleared his throat.<p>

"Here in the States, we are used to security. Security of self, our families, our property. But security is a mirage. Security could disappear faster than we can blink. We are here today for one reason. We are here today to spread hope to a group of people who have no security. We are entering a place where our security may be threatened or may even cease to exist. The barbed wire and electrical fence seen in the pictures that surrounds this new hospital is a clear enough indication of that. In Mazatlán, safety is a superstition. We will be guests on streets where gang wars break out every day. Gun fire is not uncommon. We cannot avoid the danger that we may face. Hiding in America while people are suffering is also something that we cannot do. These people face these terrors every day with no hope of relief. We have got to offer that hope, a place of sanctuary and peace, and a new life.

"Life is like an hour glass. The very moment you are conceived the sand begins to fall. But unlike most hour glasses, we don't know how much sand is in our glass, or how quickly it will fall. Here, we have a little more assurance as to the longevity of our lives. But where we are going, you never know when the sand will run out."


	3. Chapter 2

A/N:_ I am back with an update six months in the making. I'm really sorry guys. My life has been all over the place and writing has not been coming very easily. I sincerely apologize for the lateness of this update. This fic is so involved that writing it perfectly is really kicking my ass. Thank you to those who read the beginning and reviewed._

Here is a brief recap: Callie and Arizona are in Mazatlan, Mexico preparing for the rest of SGMW doctors to arrive to assist a new hospital. They are also taking some of the extra few days to have an impromptu honeymoon. Callie was sneaking around behind Arizona's back though, so something is definitely up.  
>Meanwhile, Meredith and Derek are in New York. They are leaving their kids with Derek's mom and picking up supplies before heading down to Texas to meet up with Cristina, Owen, and Teddy, before joining up with Calzona. Meredith has her suspicions about this, but she's blaming it on her uneasy fears of leaving her kids behind for so long.<p>

_I apologize in advance if my Spanish is off. I gave it my best effort. Enjoy_ :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

__When the past comes back to haunt you, are the stakes ever too high to save the ones you love?__**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Where are you going?" the question cut through the black silence in the hotel room and froze Callie in her tracks. Arizona was awake. She'd been awake since before her wife had stealthily woken and rolled out of bed. In all honesty, she hadn't gotten much sleep. The physical exhaustion of their excursions yesterday had merely left her mind running a marathon as she analyzed Callie's mysterious actions. She had to admit, Callie had made good on her promise of a magnificent dinner. It had taken a bit of travel to find the secluded garden restaurant, but the views had been worth it. Callie had to translate the menu for her and order, but the food had been more than delicious. But when she forced an explanation out of her wife, the lie had been lackluster. A cock and bull story about her father's business interests within the city. It was a continuation of the lies from earlier and Arizona knew better. Pacifico Sur was one of the most notorious drug cartels in Mexico. She had overheard the tail end of Callie's conversation with that man in the plaza. Even if they had been talking business, she couldn't understand where an upstanding citizen like Carlos Torres would come into conflict with the cartels. And you didn't just casually mention them by name.<p>

So she had lain awake as Callie drifted off to sleep after their love making that night. A few times she had contemplated sneaking out of bed for the stillness of the night on their hotel balcony. It was Mexico, and no matter the temperature, it felt good to be outside. Their hotel faced the crashing waves and salt managed to penetrate the filtered air in their room. But Arizona loved the water. She loved the sting of salt that assaulted her senses. It was soothing, usually. The city, the tourist area, was so sharply contrasted to the local areas. It was vibrant, bright, and clean. They had enjoyed themselves immensely. She had even managed to forget that her wife was sneaking around behind her back a time or two.

A vibrating cell phone alarm had jolted her out of a hazy snooze before the sun was up. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark once again as she watched as Callie clumsily pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair was pulled into a haphazard ponytail on top of her head. Arizona knew a sleepy fog would still be clouding her chocolate eyes. She winced when Callie knocked a wooden bowl off of the coffee table in her attempt to sit on the couch to pull on her sneakers. The laces sliding through Callie's fingers filled the room with noise. In the dark stillness of the morning, the smallest sound became roaring thunder. When Arizona felt the sheets on the bed pull as Callie passed her, she tensed. It was five in the morning, there was nowhere that she could justifiably be going.

"Where are you going, Calliope?"

Her voice was steady.

Knowing that she wasn't getting out of this one, Callie took her hand off of the metal door knob. She walked in the direction of the cool voice and sank down onto the edge of the bed. A lock of hair drifted down to tickle the shell of her ear. She brushed it back before feeling along the swell of the sheets, her hand sliding over her wife's foot. She squeezed it gently. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark as well and the blue sheets looked like the ocean tossed in an angry storm as they encircled Arizona's body.

"Callie." Arizona's smooth voice was calm. "How about the truth this time? Third time is the charm."

"Our charm," a long sigh escaped Callie's throat. "You wouldn't understand, mi amor. I don't want you to worry."

"Try me," Arizona snapped. Her tone turned cold instantly, frustration bubbling underneath the surface of her demeanor.

"Hit the light?" Callie said softly. She knew that tone. For Arizona, it was worse than anger. She blinked rapidly as yellow light filled the room, calming the sea of sheets into a playful tide pool. "You didn't buy my story at dinner then."

"Did you honestly think I would, Calliope?" Arizona asked, a hint of sarcasm creeping up her throat. "How long have I known you? You're about as great a liar as I am a chef."

Callie snorted. "I guess I shouldn't go into federal negotiations then, huh?"

"I think not."

Callie hung her head and let out a chuckle. It was hard to be serious when her wife's blonde hair was sticking out in a fuzzy mess. Arizona's foot nudged her hand before it was retracted. Dark eyes watched as Arizona sat up, tenting her knees and wrapping her arms around them. When their eyes met, Arizona could see the flame of fear melting Callie's defenses. "I can't risk you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't lose you, Arizona."

Confusion and suspicion prickled the hair on the nape of the blonde's neck. "Why would you lose me?"

"You won't understand."

"We finally find time to take a honeymoon, three years later, and you're sneaking around. You're afraid of something. What are you afraid of here?" She pressed, trepidation replacing her frustration.

"I'm afraid of losing you," Callie repeated. Arizona had her secrets. She'd never pressed her for them. They each had the right to keep their pasts in the past. Except, Callie was bringing hers to the present.

"Why?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Anger was mixing with the fear, an electrical combination that would undoubtedly produce a storm if Arizona didn't get a handle on it. Neither of them was going to yield. So Arizona started over. "Where are you going?"

"I have to meet someone?"

Callie hadn't finished her sentence before Arizona asked, "Who?"

"Someone."

"Calliope."

"Arizona, drop it. You won't understand."

"Try. Me."

Their eyes locked in a stalemate, blazing. Arizona's gaze hardened with anger and she watched Callie crack. The determined lines on her tanned face smoothed. "My brother."

"Your brother?"

"Orion."

"I thought–" She didn't finish. Callie had always told her that Orion was dead. He had died in a street fight when she was fifteen. He'd been involved with some shady people and gotten in over his head. The first threads of underlying dread were weaving together.

"I thought so too."

"What changed?"

"I found him," Callie said softly. "My father never believed that he was dead. We never found his body. So I hired a P.I."

"And never told me?" Arizona accused, her words coming sharply on the tail end of Callie's statement.

"When I heard back, you had just left," Callie defended bitterly.

"Left?"

"Africa!" Callie shouted. She vacated the edge of mattress that she'd been occupying. Her feet automatically paced, her hands threw themselves into the air. "Remember? Save the children in poverty without so much as asking your girlfriend what she thought? Three years abroad?"

Arizona looked away, "Oh."

Callie stopped and picked up a native carving that ornamented the top of the dresser, "And then you just dumped me in an airport."

Arizona regretted that entire event in her life. She had allowed herself to put her job as a doctor above the people that she loved. If she was truly honest, it was a defense mechanism. Africa had also been the perfect way to get out of the States and away from the ever watching eyes that followed her every move. The eyes that Callie had no idea existed. The eyes that Callie would never find out about. She watched Callie silently; strong hands placed the figurine back onto the smooth wood dresser.

"So when should I have told you? When I told you I was pregnant? Or how about while I was in a coma? Or when we were dealing with a sick Sofia? Or how about your back and forth to Malawi? Oh hey, Arizona, so glad you came back for me after telling me that you never wanted to see me again. By the way, I'm pregnant and I hired a private investigator who may have found my dead brother."

"Okay, okay," Arizona took a breath. The sarcasm was to be expected. It was always going to come up. She'd accepted that. "No wonder you jumped at the chance to come here."

"I have to try to get him back," Callie said softly, the bitterness gone. "But I can't risk you in the process."

"You're sure that he's here."

"Yes," Arizona saw her conviction. "I need you to stay here."

"What's so bad, why are you so scared?"

Callie shifted, "Please, Arizona. Stay here. I'll be back later. This is just something that I have to do."

"Callie."

"Please." She pulled herself over the bed until she could clasp Arizona's hands. "It's too dangerous. I'm begging you."

"What is too dangerous?" Arizona questioned harshly. It didn't make sense but she could feel the tension in the air. This was not their home. The salt thickened air felt like it was choking her senses. She knew that she had a reason to fear for Callie's life if she let her leave.

"Please," Callie kissed her knuckles before standing, leaving a whirlpool of sheets in the bed where her body had twisted them.

"If it's so dangerous then you shouldn't go either!" Arizona all but yelled, trying to keep Callie in the room. Her tone was too cold. Her dread was growing.

"I know these people. They'll let me come and go. I grew up dealing with them," Callie turned away.

Gangs, she's going to the cartels. The thought burned in Arizona's mind immediately. Mazatlan was the center of the Sinaloa cartel's business. It was a hot bed for dispute and violence. Orion must be a part of the cartel. That was what he got mixed up in when they were teenagers. It was the only explanation. She got to her feet. "No!"

"What?" The space between them seemed enormous. A few steps could have brought them together, but the weight of fear anchored them to the steel grey carpet. The sheets were thrown back, a disrupted scene from that morning's peace.

"You are not going." This couldn't happen to her again.

"You have no idea–"

"I have every idea!" the admission erupted from Arizona violently, her fist slammed into the peach wall to her left.

Callie shut the door she hadn't realized she'd opened. Arizona stared at her, eyes flashing. The moment had gotten to her. She had slipped. Callie couldn't know. It would endanger her more. Her life depended on Arizona keeping her secrets.

"What are _you_ talking about?" Callie questioned.

"Nothing," Arizona dropped her gaze and turned away. She rubbed her wrist. They had agreed to keep the past in the past. This couldn't happen to her again. Not after the cartels took everything away from her before. She couldn't tell Callie. "Don't worry about it."

"Then I'll be leaving," Callie said carefully, her tone leveled. If Arizona wanted to hide, then she had no right to keep her from finding her brother. "I just have to find him, Arizona. Please, stay here."

She stood with her back to Callie. She heard the door swing open. "Just go."

"I love you. I'll be back later."

The immediate silence was deafening.

The door clicked shut.

It sounded like a gun shot, at point blank range.

* * *

><p>"Bye babies," Meredith said softly, holding back her tears so that she didn't add to their distress. She had crouched down to hug them close to her instead of picking them up one at a time. Derek stood behind her with a hand resting on her shoulder. Mrs. Shepherd was ready to take over with the weepy children and Amelia was sitting on the stairs trying to stay out of the intimate moment. She picked at the fuzz in the carpet. She'd had enough of goodbyes for a while. Meredith pulled her kids in tightly. "Be good."<p>

"I don't want you to go, Mommy," Zola cried. She had been clinging to Meredith since they had returned for lunch. Derek was beginning to think it had been a bad idea to come back home.

"I know, baby," Meredith used her thumb to gently wipe away the tears. Brandon, too young to fully understand, slipped out of his mother's arms and returned to the white carpet of the living room to play with his abandoned trucks. Amelia took the opportunity to give her brother a hug goodbye before joining Brandon.

"Momma has to go for work," Meredith gave her another hug and a kiss. "I love you."

"You'll come home?"

"Very soon. You're going to have so much fun with Aunt Amy and Grandma, remember?" Meredith smiled. "We'll be home soon."

"Promise?"

Zola looked up at her father with wide, cloudy, trusting eyes. Meredith caught Derek's gaze briefly before he said, "Promise."

"Okay," the youngster nodded dejectedly. Bypassing her grandmother's arms, she walked into the living room with her brother. With Amelia playing traffic cop, Brandon quietly held out one of his trucks in an invitation to play. A honk from outside alerted them to the presence of the waiting taxi.

"Come on, Meredith," Derek said. "They'll be fine."

"They'll be so spoiled rotten that by the time you get home they won't want to leave," Mrs. Shepherd said, her cheerful tone trying to lighten the dreary mood. "Go on, have a grand adventure."

"Thanks, Ma," Derek hugged her quickly. He picked up a bag, their not-so-accidental reason for returning during the lunch break, and herded Meredith out the door before a third round of tearful goodbyes could begin. The ground had firmed up slightly during the day and navigating the yard was a bit easier this time around. The driver waited for them to get settled in the back. "The hospital please?"

"Yous guys part of those hot shots brave enough te go te Mexico?" the driver asked, a thick city accent shortening his words.

"Yeah," Derek said.

"Good luck te yous," he said, pulling out of the neighborhood.

Meredith leaned into Derek's shoulder, the rest of her tears leaking out onto his lab coat. "I don't want to leave them, Derek."

"I know," he sighed. Their fingers intertwined. "We don't have a choice. They can't go with us."

The entire city looked grey as they drove through it. The streets were grey; the houses with windows open were black inside. It was a Saturday and most people in this part of town were probably still asleep. Meredith sighed, she hadn't thought saying goodbye to her children would hurt so much. She couldn't stand the thought of something happening to them while she was away. It had pushed the uneasy fears in her mind aside, replacing them with motherly worry.

The clouds hung lazily in the sky, like cotton balls that had been glued to construction paper. A very light breeze tugged at Meredith's hair when they stepped out of the cab. She walked a few steps ahead of Derek, diverging towards a group of white lab coats on one side of the parking lot. Derek went to the passenger van and added the duffle bag while noticing a strange amount of loiterers. After a moment he shrugged it off to city life and picked up his pace to rejoin his group.

"Great, now that Shepherd and Grey are back, we can get started," Doctor Abuerto-Gonzalez called out, trying to get everyone's attention. "Your team leaders have their charts. Let us do a quick inventory and start rolling out. I'm sure you're eager to get on your way."

Catching Meredith's eye, Derek gave her a wink before they went to their separate vans. He handed out lists to his teammates. He turned to open one of the doors when loud yelling broke out and gun shots caused chaos. Men were muscling their way through the group of doctors. More gun shots into the air caused most of the doctors to drop to the ground to protect themselves.

He turned to look for Meredith. "What the hell?"

A fist in his face knocked him to the ground. He heard the vans doors being opened and someone jumped inside. Rolling onto his back, he saw brown boxes being tossed out as if they weighed nothing. Men in nondescript clothing were hastily cleaning the van out. He staggered to his feet. One of the men grabbed him. Derek saw the young eyes impregnated with fear that hid behind a mask of vicious malice. The man threw him back against the side of the van.

Screaming grabbed his attention next. He saw Meredith fighting as two men held her back. A faint splash of blood marred her forehead. Crawling away from his attackers, he tried to get to her.

"Go!" he heard a call.

Shouts disrupted the heist, security guards meeting the gang members. Police sirens could be heard blaring as they raced towards them.

"¡Vamos!¡Vamos!" the thick Hispanic accent was clear to him.

Meredith kicked at the shins of the men pining her to the side of the van. When they heard the calls to go, they smacked her head against the vehicle to disorient her and let her go. She leaned against the tire for support, clutching her head with her free hand. Her starry vision could make out retreating figures and doctors still on the ground. She closed her eyes. Her head was pounding. Her knees buckled. Someone was touching her, asking is she was okay.

Smashed brown cardboard boxes and broken glass littered the asphalt. The gang had disappeared as quickly as they had come, taking with them thousands of dollars' worth of drugs. The van that Derek had unlocked was mostly empty, and another one had been disturbed too. His eyes picked Meredith out in the chaos, crouching against the van with another doctor leaning over her. He stumbled at first, but made his way to her.

"Meredith," he sunk to his knees in front of her.

But her mind was elsewhere. The gunshots pulled her back in time to when Gary Clark had been on a rampage. She could see him standing on the catwalk. The arms holding her were Cristina's. Derek's hands were in the air.

"Meredith!"

She opened her eyes. "I'm fine. Police."

"We will," he said, pulling her bangs to the side to survey the cut on her forehead.

"Oh," she exhaled unconsciously.

"Mer?"

"My head, they hit it on the van," she admitted.

The other doctor looked at Derek, "I'll go get a kit and some morphine."

"It's not," Meredith started to protest. Her head was pounding, like a giant bird was pecking through her skull. She couldn't see, her eyes were tightly closed to keep out the light. Dizzy, she couldn't focus.

Derek cut her off, "Thank you."

An officer came over to them. He was a tall man, not particularly in shape, but he looked grim. He looked like he'd been doing this for a long time, not at all reassuring about this incident. "Are you folks alright?"

His accent hit Derek weirdly, he wasn't from New York. "Uh, we got a little banged up. My wife got the worst of it."

"Do you need me to get you anything?" he asked, his voice clipped and professional.

"No," Derek answered for both of them. "One of the other doctors ran to get a kit so we can patch her up."

"I'll need to question you both, when you're up to it," he said in the same even tone.

Meredith felt blindly for Derek, grabbing his shoulder. "I'm fine. Better do this now before the morphine kicks in."

He let his wife lean on him while she answered the officer's questions. But his mind wandered. When he blinked he saw not the face of his attacker, but the faces of the two young men who had held up his father. Those men were different, at the time he had thought they were much older than they were. But a child's mind likes to play tricks. He remembered their hands shaking as they demanded the money, holding a gun out and pointed at his father. He could smell the fear in the air. He could still hear the thud of a body hitting the floor after they pulled the trigger. He remembered thinking that they were cowards when they ran away.

His name was being called, "Derek."

"Sir, I need to ask you a few questions," the officer said.

"Oh, okay. Sorry," the words left his lips halfheartedly. He tried to clear his head.

"Do you remember anything about your attackers? Can you describe them?"

"Young. Hispanic. No facial hair," Derek listed the physical attributes that he could recall. "And scared, they were scared."

"Probably their first big hit," the officer snorted. "They won't be scared for long. Their boss will be thrilled with them."

It had happened in a matter of minutes. He wished that he'd paid more attention to the loiterers now and not shrugged it off. Order had broken down into chaos. It wasn't a good omen for the beginning of their trip.

The officer took down the rest of the details that Derek could provide before leaving him to tend to his wife. Meredith was lying on the ground; her lab coat waded up and tucked underneath her head like a pillow. A nurse was shooting morphine into her veins to stop the pounding in her skull. She probably had a concussion. He wouldn't know for sure until they could get her inside and checked out. Stitching her forehead, he left her in the hands of the nurse who assured him that she was more than capable of dealing with a woman on a small dose of morphine.

Someone brought him an icepack to put on his cheek where he'd been punched. Holding it gingerly to his skin, he helped survey the group of doctors who were taking inventory. The loss was a staggering setback but not something that they couldn't work around. Doctor Abuerto-Gonzalez, who had managed to avoid the scuffle, wanted to make an executive decision to postpone their move out, but someone was already on the phone with the airport and their flights could not be changed, only delayed by an hour or so.

Derek returned to Meredith's side while the reorganization effort got underway. Several of the doctors had been beaten up pretty bad. He watched Abuerto-Gonzalez carefully as he avoided all of them, more concerned about a box of sterile drapes than the people he was sending down into a foreign country. Maybe Meredith had been right when she said that something didn't seem right here.

"I don't want you to go," he said to her. "Stay here."

"No," Meredith said. "I'm fine. We committed ourselves to this and we are going to follow through."

Setting his jaw, he gave up. She wouldn't be told what to do. Instead, he helped her into the passenger van once everything had been reloaded. The group pulled out of the parking lot. A deep feeling of unease settled in his gut, echoing the feelings that Meredith had shared with him the first day of the conference. Maybe those men who shot his father weren't cowards. Maybe running away was what they should all be doing. Maybe Mazatlan wasn't ready for them. Maybe Mazatlan was waiting with guns drawn. Maybe giving in to the fear wasn't cowardly, maybe it was the thing that would save their lives.

* * *

><p>Callie paid the cab driver his outrageous fee and stepped out of the car. He sped off before she had the chance to breathe in the smell of rank, rotting food and cocaine. It was dirty here, the side street she found herself on screamed of poverty even though it was less than a football field away from the square she and Arizona had languidly strolled through yesterday. The atmosphere was wholly different from that of the tourist and resort areas that had made Mazatlan famous. The happy, colorful crowds were gone. Stray dogs infected with mange scoured overturned trash cans and scratched at their rotting skin from dens underneath collapsing porches, ignoring her existence. Skinny children with torn clothing played in the side alley until she passed by. Their dark eyes followed her, unsure of what to make of the new intruder. A mother yelled at her kids in such rapid dialect that Callie couldn't entirely understand what she was saying. Her feet kicked up dust from the packed dirt road. The houses were crumbling around her. Windows were boarded up. Bullet holes riddled the siding that hung from the houses, a perpetual threat to anyone walking by. This was not Seattle, or even Miami. Just as she was thinking it was a very good idea that she had made Arizona stay behind, screeching tires caused her to jump.<p>

Turning, she saw a dumbfounded blonde standing in a cloud of dust similar to the one she had walked out of. "Arizona? What the hell?"

The blonde ran up and threw her arms around Callie. "I couldn't. I'm sorry, Callie. I couldn't. I couldn't sit in that hotel room all day and wonder whether or not I was ever going to see you again."

"I'm just meeting my brother," Callie disengaged from her wife's embrace.

"The cartels," Arizona all but yelled. Callie's eyes detected movement in the shadows. "You're going to the cartels."

Callie watched Arizona's shattering eyes search her face. "I told you to wait!"

Arizona looked taken aback.

"This could ruin everything," Callie bit out harshly. "You don't understand."

"I understand enough," Arizona insisted. "I'm your wi–"

Callie lunged forward to silence her, almost knocking the slighter woman over in the attempt. "Do not."

"What the fuck?"

"Do not say that here," Callie's voice was dark. Looking at her, Arizona understood how Orion could have made it so long in the cartels. If he was anything like Callie, the world would fear him if he needed. "Catholic, traditional, Mexicans. They don't like Americans. And they like lesbians even less," Callie whispered the last sentence so low that Arizona barely heard her.

"Calliope, I highly doubt -," Arizona started to brush off her concern.

"Don't!" Callie snapped. "See, Arizona, you have no idea. If you want us to make it out of here alive, you'll do exactly what I say."

"Callie–"

"Exactly," Callie said again. "I'm serious, Arizona. Do exactly what I say and nothing else. Keep your mouth shut. They will kill you. You are no liability to them. People go missing all the time."

She saw the spark of fear ignite behind Arizona's eyes. Her gaze remained hard. Because her wife couldn't trust her, and because she had no qualms proclaiming their relationship to the heavens, they were both going to end up dead before she ever caught a glimpse of her brother. Callie knew better than to mess with the cartels.

A door slammed. They jumped, Arizona peering over Callie's shoulder. A dark skinned man was walking towards them. His baggy black shirt had a faint splash of design on it. Or maybe that was blood. Equally baggy pants dragged on the dusty road. Arizona's blue eyes flicked nervously back to Callie.

"You lost?" a cocky voice thick with local accent asked; as if they were tourists who had made a wrong turn.

Callie's eyes flashed. This was not how she wanted this to go. He knew that they weren't lost. Callie would bet her salary that he'd watched the taxi's drop them off. People didn't get dropped here by accident. She whispered harshly to Arizona. "You're my snowhoe."

"Your what?"

"Snowhoe. My bitch." Callie searched for the right phrase to make Arizona understand. "I'm your pimp." The guy was getting closer to them. She turned to face him. Noting her Latin appearance, he raised an eyebrow at her. Lifting his shirt, he displayed the handgun tucked in the waistband on his jeans. A hand motion had two other men, dressed similarly, advancing on them from the shadows. "Buscando de Orion." (I'm looking for Orion.)

"Orion?"

"Torres," Callie rolled her eyes. Despite her fear, it felt good to be speaking Spanish again. And she knew how to play this game, how to act like this wasn't affecting her as deeply as her fear was settled.

His face betrayed surprise at her Spanish, "¿Quién es ella?" (Who is she?)

A bump against her shoulder told her that Arizona was cowering behind her. Adopting a dismissive tone that left a bitter taste in her mouth, she responded, "Es mi coňo, nadie." (She is my bitch, she's nothing.)

He didn't buy it. "¿Cuantos?" (How much?)

She should have said they were both here for their pimp; it would have made more sense. Reaching behind her, Callie grabbed Arizona by the shoulder and pushed her forward. The blonde squeaked in fear. "Mi regalo para ti. ¿Quieres intentar le?" (My gift to you. Want to try her?)

A dirty grin formed on his lips. He waved his advancing companions off and ran a finger over the pale curve of Arizona's cheek. Callie watched the other two men retreat back into the alleys. These three were the lookouts.

"¿Orion?" she barked, snapping the man out of whatever dirty fantasy he was having about her wife.

"Si," he began walking away.

Callie nodded. Arizona slunk back around her, looking as scared as Callie felt. They followed him cautiously. Callie grabbed her wife's hand for a second and gave her a reassuring squeeze. They were committed to this now. If they tried to run they'd be dead before they got to the edge of the street, or worse.

The feeling of being watched was almost overbearing now, but they saw no one. Callie tried to shake it off. Her game face was in place. Her teenage years were coming back to her. She was always trying to tag along with Orion to prove that she was tough. What she learned then would probably save her life now. Dark eyes were hard, her gaze firm; her face was blank, betraying no emotion. She showed no surprise when their guide stopped abruptly and knocked on a door. After several whispered words, the door was opened. Their guide stepped back to let them pass him. She measured him. He wasn't tall, but he was built and not entering now would guarantee a bullet in the head. Callie stepped into a black hallway devoid of light. Arizona was close behind her, pressing herself into Callie's back for protection. Once they were inside, the door was shut. Her fingers caught Arizona's wrist. Holding her breath, Callie didn't dare move.

Behind her however, something did move and she lost her grip on Arizona's arm.

"Hey!" Arizona cried out.

"Tell her to shut up," a voice whispered in Callie's ear. In the confusion, she wasn't sure if the words were Spanish or English.

"Don't fight," Callie barked at Arizona. She immediately fell silent and Callie let out a breath of relief. A blindfold was being wrapped tightly around her eyes. They were then herded forward. Up and down stairs, through doors, the amount of light breaking through the fabric changed constantly and she caught a breath of outside air once. She heard pounding bass beginning to shake the walls. They weren't being shoved, just generally guided. The hands doing the guiding, albeit, were touching them inappropriately. Callie rolled her eyes, drugged up men would be drugged up men.

It took her back to a time when she'd followed Orion downtown. He hadn't known that she was behind him until she started screaming. He had rushed to her aid then, beating up the fellow gang member who had overpowered her. Then he had very firmly told her to run home and she had listened with no objection. That was the last time she had followed him.

When they finally stopped and the blindfolds were removed, they found themselves in a huge room. This was the source of the head splitting music. A smoky haze was in the air. Someone bumped into her and Callie turned sharply to catch the person. It was Arizona, and she looked up at Callie with wide eyes. Steeling herself to play the part, she snapped, "Watch it, stupid bitch."

Immediately, she wanted to say that she was sorry. Hurt filled Arizona's crystal clear blue eyes. But she didn't. There were too many eyes on them. The loud music had stopped, the chatter had ceased from those sober enough to realize that there were intruders. Men and women were hugging the walls, hanging off of furniture, or laying strewn about the floor. They were in a crack house.

A deep, unrecognizable voice that was somehow familiar to Callie greeted them in shock. "Calliope?"

She turned in its direction. Her features relaxed as she recognized the face of her brother. He walked towards her, stepped over a stoned druggie on the floor, and embraced her tightly.

"Orion," she breathed. She couldn't believe that she had actually found him. He was still alive.

"What are–"

A yell broke them apart, cutting his question off short and sending his hand down towards his waist. Callie realized that he must have a gun too and turned in the direction of the yell. Three men had grabbed Arizona. Callie stepped towards them. "Hey!"

The struggle stopped as the men stared at her. Eyes shifted around the room.

"Ella me pertenece." (She belongs to me.)

Orion put a hand on her shoulder. "¿Haciendo?" (What are you doing?)

"Matias," one of them sneered, his gaze directed towards Callie. "Sabe. Inconclusa."(Matias knows her, I don't know.)

Orion looked at Callie, whose admirably strong façade was failing. They returned to the men with a hard gaze. Everyone sat in silence, poised for his response. Callie could feel the tension in the air. With a flick of his wrist, he waved them away. With a laugh, they hauled Arizona out of the room and Callie turned back to Orion.

"No, please."

"You offered her, did you not?" Orion asked her sternly. Embracing her with another hug, his words came as whispers, for only her ears.

Her jaw dropped, "I was playing a part."

"So am I. Keep playing yours," Orion bit out harshly. "She is your…perra, ¿no?" (…bitch, right?)

She nodded.

"Then let him have her."

"She's more than that," Callie pleaded.

"They won't kill her," he turned and began walking. Stepping over the same stoned druggie, a lift of his chin had the music and chatter quickly reaching the same crescendo.

Callie hurried after him. Dirty dishes and empty food cartons littered the floor. Disgusted was not the word to describe how she felt trapped in this building. Reminding herself that she got herself into this, she followed Orion through a smoke heavy curtain. The music was less deafening once she passed the curtain into the next room. "Hermano, por favor." (Brother, please.)

"Why did you bring her?" he turned violently, snapping at her in anger. "You know–"

"She followed me!" Callie said. "Please, I love her."

He stared at her. Until now, he had believed that the other woman was an unsuspecting friend that his little sister had dragged along with her.

"I love her."

Callie nodded at his unspoken question.

"Rajas!"

A skinny boy came sliding into the room. Orion held a whispered conference with him and sent him running out the way in which he had come.

"I cannot guarantee her safety, Calliope. She walked in willingly. But I will ask Matias to not harm her. Now, why are you here?"

* * *

><p>Arizona was dragged into an empty room after she'd been forced to climb a flight of stairs on her hands and knees. Her captors dumped her on the floor and retreated to the walls of the dark room. Everything about this place was ominous. Afraid to move, she shook and forced herself to look around. She had heard the name Matias, but it held no significance for her. She didn't know the name, but apparently he knew her. Or else Callie's offer was going to be a good one. Fear rose like bile in her throat. Her pride had fled her when their original guide revealed his handgun. Nervous sweat had broken out over her forehead.<p>

An American voice laughed. It was a cold harsh laugh. The hair on the back on her neck stood on end. She knew that laugh. "No."

"Ms. Robbins, fancy meeting you here."

A man, tall, with tanned skin stepped into the light beside her. She didn't have to look to know that his poisonous green eyes were gleaming and his brown shaggy hair was laying perfectly. Sucking in a breath, she tried to calm her racing heart. He was her demon. He plagued her dreams. He was why she'd run away to Seattle.

He crouched down and grabbed her chin, tilting her head up and to the right so he could see her eyes. "Remember me?"

"How could I forget," she spat, shocking herself. "You destroyed my family."

"Oh no, Ms. Robbins," he laughed again. "You did that yourself. Or should I call you Mrs. Robbins. I hear that you got remarried. And you have another daughter; she's staying with her grandparents, isn't she?"

He watched the fear flash over Arizona's face.

"Yes, I know. And your wife, she's downstairs? Orion's sister. Does she know what coming here has done to her? Does she know what it's done to you?"

Arizona shook her head.

"No. You didn't tell her about your…colored…past?"

Arizona shook her head again.

"I'm afraid I'm going to need you to speak up, Mrs. Robbins."

"No," Arizona said softly.

"Again."

"No!"

"Ah," he laughed as she gave in to her anger. "Keeping secrets from your wife again? Didn't you learn from last time, Arizona?"

Angry tears were welling up in her eyes. He was messing with her head. She knew the truth. It wasn't her fault. She was protecting Callie.

"And now you've gone and landed yourself in an interesting predicament. So why are you here?"

Her gaze lingered on the men who'd hauled her up to the room, who were leaning against the walls. Amusement lit up their faces. "Honeymoon."

A hand struck her face lightly. "Wrong answer," he sneered. "You see, I told you that we are always watching. You're here as a part of Abuerto-Gonzalez's new hospital."

Her gaze turned to stone.

"And I find myself in need of your help again."

"We're finished."

A snap rang in her ears. Her arms were pulled behind her back, her wrists twisted painfully. "Dr. Robbins," he watched her struggle against the grip of one of his men, "you know better than to cross me. Do you really want to lose your wife and daughter, again?"

She stared up at him, pain twisting her snarl, "You know nothing."

He slapped her again, harder. She kept her face turned away from him, the sting in her cheek causing the controlled tears to roll over her eyelashes. "I know everything, you stupid bitch. I control everything. I had thought that you would learn your place."

"Boss," one of the men caught his attention.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a young boy step into the room. He looked like one of the boys who had been playing in the street when the cab dropped her off. He said something to Matias in whispered Spanish, eyeing Arizona as he spoke before retreating quickly. "Well, well. Looks like you have a champion defender. Too bad Orion isn't my boss."

The wall huggers laughed.

Fear was rising again; she felt the anxiety coursing through her veins. He shut the door to the room. Her breath kept catching in her throat. The guy holding her wrists back twisted his grip and she winced.

"Let's talk business."

* * *

><p>"I came to find you," Callie said.<p>

"No," Orion reclined on a couch in the room. "Why are you here, in Mazatlan?"

"Honeymoon," Callie's answer slid out as easily as her wife's.

"Liar," Orion snarled. "You think I'm an idiot, Calliope? I knew the second you landed here. Why are you here?"

She sat down next to him on the couch at his indication. With a sigh she told her brother the truth. "My hospital donated manpower to help the new hospital down here. I came early to find you."

"New hospital?" he rolled the phrase over his tongue as if tasting it. She heard something hidden deep in his voice. Her eyes tracked his movements.

He sat up, holding his head in his hands.

He stood, walking away from her.

He paced.

"I protected you. I've spent my entire life protecting you because, unlike Aria, you didn't have the sense to listen to Papa. Your selfishness and undying curiosity always got you in trouble. And now, you're doing it again. I was protecting you," he said slowly, bitterness tainting his words.

"What are you talking about?"

He changed directions, "How does your perra know Matias?"

"What?" Callie was caught off guard. "I – I don't know."

"Who is she?"

"My wife?" Callie narrowed her eyes, head tilting customarily in question.

"How does she know him?"

"She doesn't."

"But you aren't sure of that," he interrogated. "Who is she? What did she do?"

"I don't know."

"For your wife," he said, distaste evident in his tone, "you certainly don't know a lot about her."

"I know everything about her," Callie countered. Anger was brimming in the depths of her eyes.

"How well do you know her, Calliope? Do you know everything about her past? Does she know everything about yours? She has no secrets from you?" he pushed. The resignation in her eyes told him enough. "That's what I thought."

The boy, Rajas, pulled back the curtain, letting the pounding music penetrate their silence. He whispered to Orion and left quickly without making eye contact with Callie.

"The cartels are powerful, Calliope. Especially here. They fear no one, except each other. The largest gang war in history is about to boil over. If you and your friends don't leave now, you'll never see Sofia again."

Her concern for Arizona faded momentarily when she heard Sofia's name. "How do you know my daughter's name?"

"The cartels know everything."

Her mind was racing, "Is she okay?"

"Sofia is fine."

"And Arizona!" Callie snapped.

"I told you, Calliope. I cannot guarantee her safety. Matias and I are on thin ice as it is, he does not work for me," he snapped back. "I still wonder what she did to piss off one of the most powerful men in Sinaloa."

She watched him sink back into the seat beside her, "What did you mean by you've been protecting me?"

He stared ahead. He was silent, thinking. When he turned violently, she threw up her fist out of reflex. He pushed it aside as easily as one does an annoying fly and grabbed her face. His lips pressed against her ear. He'd been sacrificing to protect her for his entire life. A little more wouldn't hurt. "You are in danger. Tell your colleagues not to come. It's a setup, Calliope. Get out of Mexico while you still can."

He stood and took her hand; they made their way down the hall to another door. He opened it and she breathed in the hot outside air. Turning, she locked eyes with him, "Come with me."

"Calliope."

"Come with me," she pleaded.

"I cannot."

"Leave with me."

"I can't." The silence between them stung.

"Neither can I," she said finally.

He leaned forward and hugged her, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I will always protect you."

"Please," she begged him one last time.

"Calliope, you don't just leave the cartels unless you're dead. You aren't in the US anymore. You're on the surface of the sun."

A crash outside drew her confused attention away from her brother. Stepping out the door, she saw Arizona being tossed into the street.

"Please, Callie," Orion said softly.

* * *

><p>Arizona coughed as dust filled her nose from her unceremonious street dumping. She looked up, eyes stinging with tears, and barely caught Matias's cold voice. "Well Ms. Robbins, looks like you have a choice to make."<p>

He turned away with his gang tailing him. Arizona put a hand to her face to wipe away the dirt but someone caught it. She winced, but felt a tender touch wiping away her tears. She opened her eyes to find her wife kneeling before her. Callie's dark eyes were full of pain and love and concern. Arizona melted into them. Callie pulled her into her arms just as the cracking tension caused her to break.

"I'm so sorry."

"I shouldn't have come after you," Arizona cried.

"It's okay, baby," Callie soothed. "You're okay."

Arizona looked up at her and Callie couldn't help but chuckle at the dirt smudged face. Arizona turned away, wiping at her swollen cheek.

"Come on, snowhoe," Callie said with a sorrowful smile. "Let's get you cleaned up."

She extended her hand and Arizona took it with forgiveness. Callie pulled her up and they made their way down the street. Fear permeated the air between them as they walked and when Arizona started shaking, Callie wrapped an arm around her and held her close.


End file.
